by Logan Jacobs
“Why not use the power like the Great One does? For useful things, like predicting attacks?” Mahini wrinkled her nose in distaste at the tiny goddess’ fantasy. “If you could predict your enemy’s moves before he made them, you could be unstoppable. I guess that’s what makes you the god, though.”
It was interesting to hear their perspectives on my perceived powers. From the outside, it appeared as though I could prophesize the future, but in reality, I’d just already lived through it before. It was hard to explain, and the few times I’d tried had not gone well, so I’d remained vague when discussing the finer details of my abilities.
No one in this medieval fantasy world had played video games before, so they wouldn’t understand the similarities.
I tuned back into the girls’ discussion over what they would do if they had my powers, but after a short while, I cleared my throat to get their attention.
We had assassins to focus on.
“We should put some pillows and blankets beneath the bed cover,” I suggested. “I want it to look like we are all asleep in bed when they come in the room.”
“The longer they are fooled by the ruse, the better,” Mahini agreed with a crisp nod.
“I’ll go grab pillows from the empty rooms,” Eva offered, and she pulled on a silk robe to cover her nude form.
I ogled my fiancée for a moment until the robe was cinched around her waist, and then I turned to the other two women.
“Lissy, I want you to go alert Riondale about what’s happening,” I instructed. “Have him set up guards at the entrance to our wing.”
“Yes, Bash.” Elissa nodded, and then she, too, pulled on some clothes before going about her task.
“What of me, Great One?” Mahini cocked her head to the side, which sent her obsidian locks cascading across her face. “Give me a task, please.”
“Get geared up for a fight,” I said in a serious tone. “I need all three of you in full armor, just in case. I’ll do the same. Then we will meet back here to get the bed ready.”
“They won’t know what hit them til it’s over.” The corners of her lips twitched with a smirk, and the lust of battle lit up her ice-blue eyes. “I will return shortly.”
A short while later, the four of us were all in armor with weapons strapped to our waists, and the bed had been disguised with pillows and blankets so it appeared as though we were all still fast asleep. Riondale and Kylor stood guard over the entrance to the wing, and they waited anxiously for something to happen.
Everything was ready for the attack, but this time, the assassins would not get the upper hand.
We took up hiding spots around the large bed chamber, and then we settled in to wait. It had been close to morning when they’d attacked Mahini, so I knew we had a ways to go, but I was proud of my women for being down to help me. I wouldn’t have blamed them if they’d wanted to go somewhere safe while I took out the assassin, but here they were by my side, same as always.
Hours passed where nothing happened while we crouched in the shadows, and I could sense Elissa’s boredom from across the room. I could just barely make out the shape of her head as she peeked out from behind the massive floor to ceiling curtains, but the flash of red disappeared a moment later as she returned to hiding.
“Bash,” my wife hissed. “How much longer?”
“It’s going to be a little while longer, my love,” I explained in a sympathetic tone. “Be patient, there will be plenty of time for Skullcrusher soon enough.”
“My feet are asleep,” Eva murmured from behind the other side of the curtain. “Much longer, and I’ll have to sit the fight out just because I can’t move my toes.”
“Silence.” Mahini clicked her tongue, and the desert goddess pressed a stern finger over her lips as her ice-blue gaze stayed locked on the bed chamber door. “Someone is coming…”
I listened intently, and sure enough, I could make out the sound of footsteps down the hallway. Excitement and adrenaline coursed through my veins in harmony, and I gripped my feather sword tightly in my right fist while I prepared a spell with my left hand.
It was dark and shadowy in the room, so the chamber was bathed in a brief yellow glow as the door opened. A figure slid inside, and then the portal was closed once more, but now we were not alone in the room. I hadn’t heard any sounds of struggle coming from the living space where Riondale and Kylor stood guard, and I hoped they were okay, but I feared the worst.
The young lieutenant would not let anyone enter without going through him first, but I hoped this assassin had just snuck past somehow. I didn’t want any harm to come to my future general, but I knew he could take care of himself, so I focused on the shadowy figure who made their way to my bed.
I gave the signal to my women, and just as all four of us moved to encircle the bed, I conjured a small flame into the palm of my hand to illuminate the figure. The small fire in my hand shone upon the assassin’s back, which cast long shadows of his figure upon the wall behind the bed. The sight was creepy, and ominous, but our enemy was outnumbered.
What kind of fool only sent one assassin to a god’s living quarters?
My target realized he was surrounded, but instead of drawing a weapon, they catapulted backward off the bed. The assassin flew through the air over my head, landed on their feet behind me, and then took off for the bedroom door with their mission a failure.
We’d alerted our enemy to our presence too soon, but how was I supposed to know he’d have gymnastic skills?
I chased after the assassin into the hallway, and I saw the dark cloak disappear around the corner up ahead just as I skidded into the corridor. The fucker was fast, but I could be faster. I stomped my foot to activate the fleetness ability of my griffon feather boots, and then I zoomed after the dark figure who’d come into my territory with ill intent.
I barreled around the corner faster than the eye could see, and I slammed into the assassin’s back, which had us both tumbling to the ground. We rolled to our feet, but when I rose, I came face to face with the bodies of my two guardsmen.
Riondale and Kylor laid with their unseeing eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and their throats were slashed with deadly wounds. The assassin had gone through them first, and then they’d left my friends to bleed out.
Now, I was pissed.
Chime.
I held my women in my arms, and I took a minute to contemplate what I wanted to do differently on this run through before I informed them of the upcoming assassination attempt.
This time, I decided to wait at the entrance to the wing myself, so I modified my instructions to the girls to omit the part where I instructed Riondale to guard the door. I would stop the assassin before he even reached the bedroom, and I would kill him without remorse.
I waited an impossibly long time, and just when I thought maybe the assassin had come in from a different direction, the shadow figure slid out of the darkness into the light of the candles lit nearby. I didn’t waste any time, and I had a flame spell ready in the next breath. Then, with my feather sword in my right hand and fire in my left, I charged forward with a fierce roar.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted as I blasted a plume of flames in my enemy’s direction.
The assassin dodged my left leaning blaze by jumping to the right, but I was expecting that, so I met his movement with a sideways swing of my feather sword.
His eyes were a pale-blue bordering on white, which was extra creepy since that was the only part of his face I could see beneath the cowl and cloak he wore, but I maintained eye contact as he brought one of his daggers up to meet my blade.
The sound of metal striking metal reverberated through the air, but I lifted my left hand again, except this time, I used my ice spell. I bathed my enemy’s feet in thick layers of ice while I held off his daggers with my feather sword, but a few moments later, he was frozen in place.
Terror filled his pale eyes as he realized he was stuck, but the images of my dead friends and lovers sp
rang into my mind’s eye, and I saw red. The next thing I knew, the assassin's head was rolling across the floor toward me, and I was lowering my blood-drenched feather sword to my side.
Brutal, but awesome.
I still didn’t feel entirely satisfied with the results of this run through, so I thought about what the best outcome would be. Stopping one attack wouldn’t prevent them from happening in the future. The only way to truly do such a thing would be to remove the people who wanted me dead, which meant killing the Duchess of Mistvale and the Duke of Edinburg.
However, if I just murdered my enemies, the king would label me as a dangerous deity, and I’d probably receive a much less warm reception from him in the future. I wasn’t ready to ruin my alliance with the king, so I needed to find some other way of eliminating my opponents without killing them myself.
In the meantime, I still had the problem of an assassin trying to come into my personal space to contend with. While it made me feel a lot better to just kill the guy, I wanted it to feel like I’d accomplished one-hundred percent completion.
I had a sudden idea, and a sly grin spread across my lips as the thought took hold. I knew what to do, so I reset back to my save point with a wave of my will.
Chime.
This time, I didn’t say anything to my women, and I didn’t include Riondale in my plan, either. I waited in the bed until the three beauties were sleeping peacefully, and then I snuck out from beneath the tangle of limbs.
I would keep them safe, and they would never even have to worry about an assassin disturbing their slumber. This way, I could kill multiple birds with one stone, and do it by myself like the god I was.
During the next run through, I waited by the entrance to my wing of the king’s palace with my weapons drawn. I wore all black clothes, and I hovered in the shadows at the edge of a window so I had a good view of where the moonlight illuminated the doorway.
After a while, my legs grew numb from standing in one spot, so I began to shake them out to bring the feeling back to the muscles. It was in that moment, of course, that the assassin appeared in the doorway bathed in moonlight for an instant before disappearing into the shadows once more.
I chased after him as I muttered a curse under my breath, and I prepared my ice spell in my left hand as I ran. I spotted the black-dressed figure down the corridor, and there was about three yards of distance between us, so I stomped my foot to activate the fleetness ability of my griffon feather boots. Then I zoomed down the hallway toward the fucker intent on murdering my beloved women.
In the blink of an eye, I collided with the dark figure, and we both went down in a tangle of limbs. Thanks to the increase in my agility and muscle control I’d gained since being summoned to Sorreyal, I was back on my feet in the next breath, and I swiveled back around to face the assassin.
The creepy eyes stared back at me from within the shadows of his cowl, and he glared before striking out at me with his dagger.
“Chs!” I shot a blast of ice at his feet, which instantly froze him in place, and then I took a deep, steadying breath.
Now, I could take my time. I went ahead and coated his arms with ice until his limbs were pressed against his torso at an uncomfortable angle since he’d tried to escape while the flurries were summoned.
The assassin cursed and spat in my direction, but I merely took a few steps backward to avoid the saliva projectile. He was good and stuck, so I let him struggle for a few moments.
“What’s all the commotion?” Riondale asked as he walked out of his room and blinked the sleep from his brown eyes, but then his gaze fell upon the assassin icicle in the hallway, and his eyebrows rose up to his hairline.
“I’ve got it under control,” I informed him. “Sorry to wake you up.”
“Sir.” Riondale frowned. “You should have called for me.”
“No, it’s okay.” Images of his dead body flashed through my mind, and I shook my head. “You can stick around if you want, though, he’s frozen in place.”
“I can see that,” Riondale chuckled. “Well, I’m awake now, so there’s no point in going back to sleep and letting you have all the fun. What are we doing with him?”
“I have some questions I need answers to,” I explained as I furrowed my brow and returned my gaze to the imprisoned assassin. I noticed some spots of ice beginning to crack, so I added another layer of chill to cool the guy down. “Chs.”
“That’s incredible,” Riondale observed with an awed shake of his head. “It’s one thing to be so skilled with every weapon you touch, but to add magic on top of it… You truly are a powerful god, sir.”
“I never get tired of hearing that,” I laughed. “But let’s stay focused on this asshole. I need to make him squeal on the man who hired him.”
“Do you not already know?” Riondale frowned, and I saw a flicker of doubt in his brown eyes.
“Oh, I know,” I replied in a hard tone. “But the king won’t believe me until he gets some hard evidence. I think the firsthand account of an assassin ought to do the trick, don’t you think?”
“Very good plan, sir.” Riondale nodded, and the flicker in his eyes returned to the expression of utter faith I’d grown accustomed to. “I apologize for my doubt.”
“Just don’t let it happen again,” I warned, but I flashed my lieutenant a smile to soften my words.
Then I turned to the assassin, crossed the distance between us, and ripped off the cowl that covered his head. Beneath the black hood was a white-haired, pale-skinned man, and he shot me a venomous look as I revealed him.
“An albino,” Riondale observed. “No wonder.”
“No wonder?” I questioned.
“They’re outcasts, sir,” Riondale explained. “Shunned from society and forced to live in the dregs. Many turn to crime as a means of survival, others end up in more nefarious occupations.”
“Like assassins for hire,” I surmised.
“Yes, sir,” Riondale confirmed. “They’re tough, but generally have a weakness for money.”
I didn’t want to bribe answers out of the man who’d come into my personal space with the intention of murdering the loves of my life, but I tucked the information away for later use.
Then I grabbed the assassin by his white head, and I pulled his neck backward at an uncomfortable angle. “Who sent you?”
“Eat shit,” the albino spat.
“Tell me who sent you,” I pressed as I withdrew my dagger and waved it menacingly in front of his eyes.
His pale gaze widened, but there was no fear in his eyes as he stared at the blade inches from his face.
“Who sent you?” I repeated, and I brought the dagger even closer to his exposed throat. “Tell me if you want to live.”
“You need me alive,” the assassin snickered in a voice made thick by the angle of his throat.
I had to up the ante to coax the words out of him, so I slid my dagger back into its sheath, and then I summoned a small flame with my left hand. I held the fire closer and closer to the assassin’s face, and I repeated my question with each movement. The albino didn’t give in, though, so I had to bring the heat directly against his skin.
“Ahhhh!” The assassin’s head jerked in an effort to escape both my grip and the flames pressing against his neck, but he was unsuccessful. He panted, and his face constricted into a grimace of pain.
“Tell me who hired you,” I repeated.
“The… wizard!” the albino finally gasped out. “Dumas!”
That was all I needed, so I relented the heat of my hand and released my grip on his hair.
“Thank you,” I said in a friendly tone, and I shot Riondale a broad smile. “That was easy. Let’s go talk to the king.”
“Right now, sir?” Riondale frowned. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yep.” I nodded. “This can’t wait. Go find a servant and tell them it’s an emergency. I need to talk to the king immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Riondale salut
ed, and he gave the frozen assassin a wide berth before he trotted down the hallway toward the entrance of our wing of the palace.
I stayed with the popsicle guy, but I didn’t have to wait very long. My lieutenant returned a few moments later with good news.
“The king is on his way to the throne room to give you an audience,” the young lieutenant informed me in a pleased tone. “Would you like me to wake the rest of the men to escort you and your prisoner to the king?”
“Nah, I can handle it, but you can get me some rope,” I instructed. “Then help me tie him up as I unthaw him.”
“Yes, sir.” Riondale nodded, and then he once again trotted off down the hallway, but this time he went in the other direction. The young lieutenant headed toward the chamber he’d chosen as his own, but he returned a short while later with a bundle of thick rope in his hands.
“Fur,” I whispered, and a small flame erupted in the palm of my hand. I directed the heat at the assassin’s frozen limbs, but the moment his arms were free, Riondale grabbed them and wrapped them up in the rope.
I melted the ice around his torso, legs, and finally his feet. Then Riondale followed behind me and hobbled the assassin around the ankles. He’d be able to walk, but only at a snail’s pace, so he wouldn’t be getting very far very fast.
When I was satisfied, I grabbed the assassin under the armpit, and I dragged him toward the entrance of our rooms. It was slow going down the corridors and pathways to the throne room since my prisoner didn’t come along without a fight, and I had to readjust my grip on his arm every few paces. We managed to get to the audience chamber a short while later, though, and I nodded to the guards as I approached.
They eyed my prisoner warily, but I could tell they were hesitant to say anything against me, so I walked past them without a word. I entered the throne room with my head held high, and I pushed the assassin clumsily ahead of me as I crossed the distance to the throne dais.
King Frederick frowned when he spotted me, but he didn’t say anything until I pushed the assassin to his knees in front of the king’s throne. “What is the meaning of this, Sir Sebastian? Who is this man?”